When You Look At Me
by QuasarSerpent
Summary: He couldn't help but get an eyeful of his blonde friend as she takes her hoodie off in his room.


**Author's Note:** So, I totes love _The Loud House_ , and thought I'd, like, give this fanfiction writing thingy a try. This is my first attempt at a one-shot, so please be, like, gentle with me.

 **Disclaimer:** _The Loud House_ belongs to Nickelodeon and, by extension, Viacom.

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 ** _When You Look At Me_**

 _By QuasarSerpent_

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He felt like his heart was about to take a flying leap out of his increasingly constricted chest as he stared at the blonde in front of him.

Said blonde was taking her sky-blue hoodie off. Right in front of him. In the tiny converted linen closet that he called his room. Emphasis on tiny.

There was nothing tiny inside his increasingly-tight jeans, though, and Lincoln Loud tried to adjust it to hide the growing discomfort down there, keeping his thighs close together. He thought about using his pillow to cover his lap, but then it would be far too obvious and would probably lead to questions he didn't want to answer.

He wanted to slap himself for the obvious way his body was reacting. She was only taking her hoodie off because she felt hot, and it didn't particularly help that his Dad had insisted the air conditioner be turned off during the day to save on costs. _And_ it didn't particularly help that she was, well, hot.

Literally and figuratively.

Unh. There was the midriff that the girl had inadvertently revealed as she tugged her sweatshirt off. Her firm belly that he wanted to touch for some strange reason that totally had nothing to do with the strange sensation that was coming over him.

A part of him fervently wished he was eleven again, so he could be spared from the onslaught his hormones were waging against his vulnerable body. How he missed being able to look at girls, especially ones as pretty as the one taking her hoodie off right in front of him, and feeling nothing but some vague discomfort that cootie-fearing boys usually felt around that age.

He could ask Lisa to create a time machine, but then he didn't want to risk having his buttocks relocated to someplace on his body where they shouldn't be, or something like that. Oh, how he cursed the ravages of puberty.

Lincoln barely held in a groan as he took in the pink tank top, most especially the swell of her breasts. He could see her bra straps, their black color meshing particularly well with the top — and her pale skin! — and felt himself 'lengthen' once more.

He wished he didn't know about fashion advice, courtesy of Leni, especially color combinations.

His eyes were now fixated on her chest, especially the slight swaying action, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't avert them away. Burning questions began to run through his feverish mind: what would they feel like? Would they be soft like they looked? Would they taste good?

"Lincoln?"

Her voice pierced the mental fog, and he blinked a couple of times. As his eyes met hers, he swore he felt all the blood in his body suddenly change direction and flood into his face. For one agonizing moment, embarrassment and panic wrestled, figuratively, for control, with his shame jumping into the fray while his hormones cheered them on.

"I—you—I—uh—" He tried to form words, a task made difficult by his paralyzed tongue. He closed his lips and swallowed before trying again.

"I—I'm sorry! I d-didn't mean to—to—" A slender finger on his lips silenced him.

"It's okay, Lincoln." She had a bemused grin. It could be the light, but her face seemed to be slightly pink. She tossed her hoodie on the desk, and sat down next to him.

He shook his head to try to clear his mind. "Still, I shouldn't have done that..." he mumbled.

She giggled. "Like I said, it's okay." She put her arm around him and pulled him close. He couldn't help but inhale her sweet scent and felt himself begin to stir once more. "I'm flattered, actually."

Not trusting himself to speak, he looked up—and gave a start when he noticed their faces were so close together. Her soft brown eye (the one not covered by her hair) twinkled, her smile radiant. His breath hitched as she leaned in closer.

"I like it when you look at me..." she whispered before closing the distance. His brain literally short-circuited as she pressed her lips chastely against his for what felt like a long moment before pulling away.

"Wow..." he managed to say, making her giggle.

"Well..." The blonde got up from the bed and turned to the white-haired teenager, holding her hand out. "Want to go for a walk?"

Lincoln nodded faintly, his lips slowly curling into a smile, his mind still whirling around the kiss, as he accepted her hand and got up. As she led him out of the room, Lincoln felt her intertwine her fingers with his.


End file.
